Occupied
by sugarmousequills
Summary: The door locked with a click. Draco finds himself locked in the Room of Requirement with Hermione Granger, a girl he is sure he hates. And the Room of Requirement gives what you want, but, if that is so, why did the door lock in the first place? Set in their fifth year (Order of the Phoenix).


The door locked with a click.

"Shit," Draco muttered, as he tried the handle in vain. He lifted a fist and pounded on the wood.

"Merlin! You frightened-" The voice stopped.

When Draco turned, he saw nothing. Just shadows. He squinted, hoping to reveal the speaker. He could just see that the room was filled with rows and rows of shelves, occupied by thick, dusty volumes of ancient books. A figure stepped forward.

"Granger."

Hermione stood with her hands on her hips, her form illuminated by the dim light that crept through a window high above them. "Malfoy."

"Lumos." Draco pulled his wand from his pocket. "What is this?"

"A room."

"Is it another library or-"

"Please, leave." The words were almost a sigh, spoken more out of frustration than spite.

A sudden bout of anger shot through the Slytherin boy. He turned to try the door again but stopped and spit, "Why would I want to be in here with a filthy-"

"Don't – you – dare." Hermione's wand was raised, her face an epitome of rage.

The boy reached for his own wand. "I'm not scared of you."

"You should be," she hissed back.

"I'm more frightened of your hair than I am of you," Draco sneered.

"Levi-"

The decision not to counter the curse came instantly. "Look, stop. I'm just pissed off, okay?" He sighed, heavily. "I have somewhere to be."

"Date with Parkinson?"

"No." The speed and sheer defence of that one word evoked a smirk from the girl ahead.

"No?" She laughed. The anger Draco had felt only moments ago seemed to wash away.

"Well, maybe. But she's just – just so-"

"Irritating, dim-witted, shallow?" Hermione asked, an eyebrow arched.

"Each is sufficient."

The Gryffindor chuckled, a sweet sound. Draco refrained from letting the smallest of smiles touch his lips. _If only she was a Pureblood._ The thought was unexpected and he pushed it to one side. This girl was his enemy, almost as bad as Potter himself. They hated each other. He was _not _going soft.

A moment of silence passed between them before Hermione asked, "How did you get here?"

"You say that as though this was my intention." Draco straightened his posture. "I can assure you, it wasn't."

"Then leave!" Hermione said, exasperated.

"Are you fucking joking?" he yelled, suddenly. "Do you not think I've already tried?"

The Gryffindor girl crossed her arms over her chest, defensively. "You tell me."

Draco opened his mouth to shout again but closed it. He wasn't going to let her see how mad she made him. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction. "It's locked," he said, taking a small step away from the door. "See for yourself."

"Don't mind if I do," she muttered. Hermione rattled the handle before raising her wand. "Alohomora." She turned back. "Look, it wasn't difficult."

Draco pushed the door. It stayed shut. He smirked, facing the girl who quickly turned a deep shade of scarlet.

"Let me see."

Again, the door did not move.

Hermione rounded on the Slytherin. "What did you do?" she spit. "Are you here to taunt me? Because I really don't care, Draco."

"Draco," the boy said, under his breath.

"What?"

He didn't reply. He was dumbfounded. Granger had called him Draco. Not Malfoy. He wasn't even sure why he cared so much. He just did. A feeling rose in his chest and the words the girl was spewing could not break through the glass that seemed to form a wall, a barrier, in front of him. He was lost in his own mind. Then, again, that one word penetrated his thoughts.

"DRACO!"

"Yes?" he replied, deliberately keeping his voice cool.

Hermione huffed, clearly frustrated. She pinched the bridge of her nose and just breathed before addressing the boy again. "Is there a bone in your body that isn't annoying?" She spoke slowly, trying to match his level of calm. If she wasn't careful, she really would lose her temper. And that wouldn't end well.

"I don't know. Why don't you come take a look?"

The girl's eyes widened. Draco did not have a clue as to why he had said that. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and maybe they sounded harsh or…flirtatious? _Shit, _he thought, wondering whether to say something more or hope she didn't fully grasp the meaning of his question. Because he had to face it. Regardless of whether they were said to provoke such a reaction, those words were said as a means of flirting. _Shit._

Hermione took a small step forward, her eyes sceptical. "What did you say?" She managed to keep her voice level, knowing that he expected her to explode. That was why he had asked, wasn't it?

A smirk crept on to his face. He couldn't resist. This game of cat-and-mouse was his forte and the opportunity was too good to pass up. Draco did not speak, not allowing the anxiety to show on his face. He just watched the girl approach, one step at a time, holding his ground. They were like two predators, each stalking the other, testing their limits. One of them would break.

Her face was inches from his now. Features depicting the rage she clearly felt, Hermione bared her teeth and spit, "I will _not _let you toy with me like this." Her eyes hardened. "I will _not _let you win."

And that was it. Draco was too far gone. He couldn't stop himself. He pushed forwards, his hands cupping her face, and he kissed her. The shock lasted a second, and then Hermione was pushing away from him. Her eyes were wide, boring into Draco's own. He was confused. He was confused as to why he had kissed her but also as to why she had refused. Draco had never been refused by a girl before.

"I-"

Then Hermione stepped forward and crushed her lips on to his. And they both felt it. They both felt the spark.


End file.
